First love gets a second time around in Warren B. Malone's Brit rom-com, ACROSS THE RIVER

Random Media has come up with a number of interesting little films of late, several of which have been covered here at TrustMovies.

The company's latest addition, ACROSS THE RIVER, is yet another enjoyable piece of cinema that is small-scale but well enough directed, written and acted to qualify as a success and good enough to be placed on the "watch-it" list of those viewers who appreciate independent cinema, no matter the country of origin (in this case, it's Britain).

The writer/director is a fellow named Warren B. Malone (shown at left), whose first full-length feature this appears to be, after having made a few short films. Even then, Across the River is only 75 minutes long -- which proves just enough to grab us and keep us interested for the day that our two ex-lovers, who've "met cute" after maybe a decade apart, spend slowly and haltingly discovering who each other have since become.

The river in question is London's Thames, and the two folk who need to cross it -- there are various work stoppages going on which make it difficult to get either the tube or a taxi --

are ex-lovers Ryan (played by Keir Charles, above) and Emma (Elizabeth Healey, below). Mr. Charles is particularly good: full of low-key charisma and the kind of slightly goofy quality that can be quite sexy when it is also easy-going and never pushy. Ms Healey, on the other hand, has the more difficult role of the tight-ass, professional woman who must slowly unburden herself of both inhibitions and history. But she is attractive and very good at keeping her feelings close to the vest.

The movie's "re-meet cute" situation proves a tad manipulative, what with a flashback and an awfully coincidental dropping of a cell phone, but once we get past the first few minutes, and Ryan and Emma have properly reunited (even if only to grumble and argue for awhile), the movie springs quietly to life and we're off and running.

How and why these two knew each other and what happened to them leeches slowly from the screenplay, and the two actors (who are credited as screenwriters, in addition to Mr. Malone) perform with enough improvisational style that we easily buy into their relationship -- both then and now.

And if the movie relies a bit too much on the usual small talk -- of the paint job on the Houses of Parliament and the look of the popular London Planetree -- which is often overpowered into silence by the (also low-key) musical score, the filmmaker at least knows where he is going and how to get us there.

In its last 20 minutes or so, the movie rises to its own occasion and  -- interestingly enough, once our couple has again been separated -- actually becomes more intense, funny, charming and propulsive. The film's ending, in fact, is even rather moving. In all, this is 75 minutes of British not-quite-rom-com slice of life that proves worth experiencing.

From Random Media, Across the River made its worldwide debut via Digital, DVD and VOD yesterday, July 17 -- for purchase and/or rental.

Guðmundur Arnar Guðmundsson's fraught, Icelandic coming-of-age tale, HEARTSTONE

Think back to your own early-teen-age time and the fear you felt that most likely turned into everything from aggression to depression, loneliness and seclusion to acting out in sometimes odd ways and you'll have a good idea of the content of Icelandic filmmaker Guðmundur Arnar Guðmundsson in his deeply-felt and beautifully filmed HEARTSTONE. In it, the writer/director, pictured below, tells the tale of two boys on the cusp of that time when one's secondary sex characteristics are about to appear and so much begins to change -- in and to one's body.

The lead characters here are fast friends Þór and Kristján (played with utter commitment and honesty by Baldur Einarsson and Blær Hinriksson, shown below and on the poster above, left and right, respectively), who, as puberty hits, find their feelings, particularly those budding sexual ones, moving in different directions. One boy is focused on a local girl, while the other is growing ever more attached to his friend. Yes, a lot of angst ensues.

Fortunately, taking place as the film does in a small Icelandic community far from the major city of Reykjavik, the scenery is stunning and the sense of place that the filmmaker is able to capture plants us firmly in this unusual terrain.

The culture here, too, is both expected and yet exotic -- so different in some ways, similar in others, from its American counterpart that the behavior of the kids on view, along with their parents and other adult townspeople, is consistently interesting and just a little strange, too.

The girls of the town, though they may be the same age as these boys, are clearly more mature (as seems to be the case worldwide), and so our troubled-but-trying fellow's fumbled connections to his would-be girlfriend are both funny and sad,

as are those of his older sister and her best friend (above), who treat little brother in that same alternately sweet/affectionate and can't-stop-making-fun-of-him manner that older siblings so often do.

It's the other boy, however, whose plight seems so much more difficult. Gay is still something of a stigma in Iceland, particularly, as would be expected, in small towns. How the sadder of our two heroes handles this is maybe to be expected but is still difficult for the viewer to bear. How his friend handles it, too, is troubling but very believable.

What saves Heartstone from being a dirge and a mire is its magnificent locations coupled to performances from the entire cast that ring absolutely true. The parents have their own troubling issues, and the children, as usual, are still unable to process completely and certainly unable to put into sensible words and thoughts all of the angst that's going on inside them. They all blunder through, just as most of us did (and maybe still do). The ending, by the way, is brilliant, harking back to the film's beginning with a bit of perfect symbolism that adds just a dollop of necessary hope.

From Breaking Glass Pictures and running a lengthy but never boring 129 minutes, after opening theatrically in Los Angeles last week, the movie hits DVD and VOD this coming Tuesday, October 10 -- for purchase and/or rental. I'd call it a keeper.

Fun from Mexico -- no kidnappings, minimal drugs -- in Manolo Caro's screwball rom-com, TALES OF AN IMMORAL COUPLE

If one purpose of movies is to take us away from the horrors and drudgery of reality -- all too evident these days -- young Mexican filmmaker Manolo Caro is certainly doing his job to a "t." His latest work, the first to find theatrical release here in the United States, TALES OF AN IMMORAL COUPLE  (La vida immoral de la pareja ideal), is quite the little charmer. In it, ex-lovers who first bonded during high school, meet again 25 years later and, sure enough, romance blooms anew, even as screwball comedy quickly rules the roost.

Señor Caro, shown at left, has created a trifle as adorable and pixie-like as he himself seems to be: full of fun and amusement, even as it probes themes as everlasting as love, sex and the meaning of fidelity -- with dollops of satire tossed in, the welcome objects of which are religion and politics.

His movie, while breaking little new ground, manages to cover the ground it trods with energy, sparkle and enough wit to keep us with it all the way. Its introduction into the kids' lives of heterosexuality, as well as homo- and bi-sexuality is handled well, too. Of enormous help to all this is the near-constant inter-cutting of past and present, as we see the couple as youngsters and then as adults.

The smart flashback-and-forth conception (by Caro) and on-the-mark editing -- from Yibran Asuad (Güeros and We Are the Flesh) and Miguel Musálem -- helps keep the pacing swift and fun, while the excellent ensemble cast (pictured on poster, top, and above) help bring each character to amusing life.

As the two love-struck kids, Sebastián Aguirre (above, right, from A Monster With a Thousand Heads) and Ximena Romo (above, left ) prove lovely, sensitive and youthfully ignorant, while Manuel Garcia-Rulfo (below, left) and Cecilia Suárez (below, right) bring the pair to more hesitant, suspicious and cynical adult life.

Supporting characters -- kids to adults -- are specific and funny, as well, while Caro's plotting brings us pleasantly and fairly speedily to a close, at last solving the mystery that will be foremost in viewers' minds: How come these two "seahorses" remained apart for so long? You'll find out, and I suspect the answer will satisfy you every bit as much as has the fun leading up to it.

From Hola Mexico and running a just-right 91 minutes, Tales of an Immoral Couple opens this Friday, August 25, nationwide in limited release. In the Los Angeles area, look for it at Laemmle theaters and elsewhere. Click here (and then click on THEATERS on the task bar midway down) to see all currently scheduled playdates, with cities and theaters listed.  But be careful and maybe check with your local theater before heading out, as some of these supposed playdates appear not to be happening....

DVD/VODebut: Andrew Steggall's DEPARTURE depicts a jagged, difficult coming-of-age tale

The first full-length film by Andrew Steggall, a fellow who has made several award-winning/-nominated shorts, DEPARTURE is what you might call a gay art film -- and a pretty good one, at that. Elliptical and fragmentary, it tracks the emotional state of a British teenager who, with his very fragile mother, is closing up their country house in the south of France as mom and dad's marriage crumbles around him. The boy is simultaneously coming to terms with his homosexuality and in particular a very heavy crush on a local boy he's just met.

Mr. Steggall, shown at left, concentrates on emotions above all else. This can be tricky, but fortunately the filmmaker has found a number of ways to bring emotions to the fore without completely sapping-out his audience. Visually, his film is artful, beautiful and a bit mysterious from the outset. Who are these people, and what exactly is their situation? Soon enough we know, and that situation is definitely not good. Mom -- the fine Juliet Stevenson (below) -- is extremely fragile, which is no help to her troubled son, Elliot, played with intensity, intelligence and not-a-little entitlement by Alex Lawther (on poster, top, and three photos below).

Fragile, too, is the young French boy, Clément, who is going through his own difficult time, but masking this with the kind of macho aggressiveness that young males so often use to deflect feeling. As played by the excellent Phénix Brossard (above and below), Clément becomes in some ways the most appealing and interesting character on view.

Dad, when we finally meet him (he's played by Finbar Lynch) has his own problems -- not all that different from his son's -- yet neither parent appears to have the ability or desire to put their child's needs ahead of their own.

So Elliot is left to his own slapdash devices to piece together who he is, what he wants and how he might get this -- which involves everything from flirting and belittling to a new use for a large garden carrot.

What we basically have here is a group of extremely damaged people inflicting more of the same on each other. This sort of thing can be awfully trying for an audience, but fortunately, Steggall offsets it with some smart dialog and enough interesting visuals to keep us watching and relatively enthralled (a Saint Sebastian-type fantasy is among those visuals, as well as the glorious French town, below, in which the filming takes place).

Steggall also does not insist on tying up the loose ends. Love remains a good deal unrequited, with a single line of dialog, below, standing in for a wealth of buried feeling. Departure is worth seeing by the GLBT audience, of course, but also, I think, by those who appreciate an arthouse film.

From Wolfe Video and running 109 minutes, the film makes its DVD/VOD debut this coming Tuesday, March 7 -- for purchase and/or rental.

Long lost love reappears -- and reignites -- in Tim Kirkman's smart rom-dram, LAZY EYE

There are certain eye exercises one can do to help correct the medical condition known as lazy eye. As one of the two protagonists in Tim Kirkman's eponymously titled new movie is quick to admit, he did not do these exercises when he ought to have and so is now paying the price by having to wear trifocal glasses. There are some other important things that neither of our protagonists did when they ought to have, and these, too, will come back to haunt them in the course of this short love-affair-weekend that Mr. Kirkman, shown below, has devised.

The filmmaker, who a decade ago made one of my all-time favorite gay films, Loggerheads, tends, I think, to build his movies around life lessons. Fortunately, he is good enough at making those films entertaining, thoughtful and moving that we don't feel terribly "preached at."  Loggerheads was about parentage and commitment, among other things, while LAZY EYE offers up the idea of how important it is to be honest with oneself, as well as with others, especially concerning life's "big" questions.

The movie begins in an optometrist's office, where Dean (Lucas Near-Verbrugghe, below) is asked by his doctor exactly when his symptoms seemed to worsen and if he was viewing some kind of "screen" at the time. As he considers the answer, we quickly and briefly flash back to an out-of-the-blue email Dean had received from his ex-lover, Alex (Aaron Costa Ganis, above), a fellow who disappeared from his life years before, leaving neither a reason nor even a goodbye.

Now Alex is back, and the two men, via email exchanges, decide to spend some time together at Dean's desert retreat in Joshua Tree. They fuck immediately, but that, it turns out, is the least of it. Who they were, who they are, and what they now want come quickly to the fore, and Mr. Kirkman proves very good at free-flowing dialog that quite believably gives us exposition, humor and surprise, along with a good deal of wit and charm.

Initially we spend a tad's worth of time in Deans office (he's a very successful graphic designer) and meet his best friend, Mel, played by Michaela Watkins, above, whose throw-away role could have been left out entirely, for all the space and importance it receives. It's only our twosome that counts, and the remainder of the movie revolves closely around these attractive, needy guys.

They bed, they swim, they explore the surrounding territory. But mostly they talk, and that talk unveils their needs and desires. In a way, the movie is a kind of fantasy of what if? followed by and then what? We learn a lot more about Dean than we do about Alex, who is proves little more than the fleshed-out hunk that we let get away and now suddenly have the opportunity to maybe get back. Or get back at.

Yet the performances of the two actors are so good that we willingly follow along, enjoying the visuals and the verbiage and the all-round situation. If Lazy Eye is not finally as moving and engulfing as was Loggerheads, it is certainly one of the better gay movies to hit screens this year.

From Breaking Glass Pictures and running just 87 minutes, Lazy Eye opens this Friday, November 11, in New York City at the Cinema Village and in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Music Hall 3.  Not near either location? Not to worry. The DVD hits the street this coming Tuesday, November 15 -- for purchase and/or rental.

César winner Arnaud Desplechin's MY GOLDEN DAYS: Growing up absurd, French style

"Golden"? How ironic, almost anti-nostalgic, considering that the days shown here -- the whole life, really -- are pretty damned fraught. The films of Arnaud Desplechin, who just recently won a César award as Best Director for this movie, just keep getting better. On-the-job training is certainly paying off for this guy, who in recent years has given us the likes of A Christmas Tale and Jimmy P.  With MY GOLDEN DAYS (Trois souvenirs de ma jeunesse), opening today in New York and Los Angeles, Desplechin has created in some ways his best film yet, the one that is likely to be the most appreciated by American mainstream/arthouse audiences.

M. Desplechin, pictured at left, begins with his hero as an adult (played by the always terrific Mathieu Amalric, below), who has a little passport trouble, as is often the case in these post 9-11 times, and while speaking with the authorities (in the person of the great André Dussollier), relives some of those golden days for our delectation. And while the movie may be a kind of memory piece, the style in which Deplechin has chosen to film it is every bit his own.

The young actor selected to portray the adolescent and young adult version of Amalric -- newcomer Quentin Dolmaire, below -- is so exquisitely beautiful (he possess one of those faces on which the camera simply dotes: think the young Alain Delon) that you may have trouble imagining that he could turn into the older Amalric. But his beauty is such that I doubt you'd want to replace him. Dolmaire proves up to the role, acting-wise, as well. He brings a quietly thoughtful, almost deliberately philosophically transgressive presence to these proceedings which helps carry the film along.

Divided into not particularly necessary "episodes" -- Childhood, Russia, Esther, Epilog -- the movie tracks our hero, Paul Dédalus, and his longtime, long-germinating affair with another oddball, but more obviously transgressive character, Esther (played by first-timer, Lou Roy-Lecollinet, below). How these two meet, spar and slowly join forces makes for quite an original look at "first love."

The first half of the film moves pretty much like a house afire, what with a school trip to Russia, during which Paul and a friend take a sidetrip into helping some Russian Jews illegally emigrate to Israel. Later our hero gets a nasty beat-down (below) by a jealous would-be boyfriend. (Desplechin also offers up some of the kind of split-screen moviemaking that will take us oldsters back to the 1960s.)

The movie. being both French and well-done, is philosophical without even trying, and when at last the lovemaking begins, it is gentle and exploratory, which seems exactly right, given Paul's history and situation at this point in those "golden days." Our boy will confront death, loss and, most important, living -- and at one point along the way, you'll realize with shock that, OMG, for his mate he has chosen someone far too like his mother. Oh, right: We all do that....

The film also includes a lovely, direct and no-nonsense fantasy sequence that further shows off Desplechin's growing skills, and if the movie's pace lessens noticeably during its second half and the on-again/off-again romance grows just a tad tiresome, things pick up toward the end. (That's the very fine actor, Olivier Rabourdin -- of Eastern Boys -- above, left, as Paul's dad, with Lily Taieb, as his sister, Delphine.)

The finale brings us back to Amalric, and it may briefly put you in mind of Paolo Sorrentino's recent Youth, in that it involves young men's sexual jealousy still potent in later years and even includes a bit of operatic song. Not to worry: It will also be quite clear how very different these French are from those Italians.

Distributed by Magnolia Pictures and running 124 minutes, My Golden Days opens today at The Landmark in West Los Angeles and in New York City at the Film Society of Lincoln Center and the IFC Center. Click here to see all currently scheduled playdates, with dates, cities and theaters shown.

Old-fashioned Russian fun and games, from a Dutchman: Jos Stelling's THE GIRL AND DEATH

There's something (quite a lot, actually) decidedly old-fashioned and operatic about THE GIRL AND DEATH, Dutch director and co-writer Jos Stelling's attempt to give us a period tale involving first love between a young medical student and a tubercular courtesan, the former on his way between Russia and Paris to study, the latter under the thumb of the elderly count who pays for her quarters in the slightly decaying hotel in Germany where the young man arrives to stay the night on his journey.

Mr. Stelling (shown at right) also co-wrote the film (along with Bert Rijkelijkhuizen), and the two of them clearly perceive this as a tale of a first love that, sadly, cannot be. As filmmaker, Stelling has lavished his movie with some gauzy, graceful cinematography (by Goert Giltay) that lingers over everything from the hero and heroine's beautiful faces to the accoutrements of the hotel and the Count's ugly countenance. As writers, the pair clearly decided to tell their story more visually than with dialog. Scene by scene, this is a film remarkably dialog-free (or with very limited use of conversation). This can have its charms, but here, I think, you'd really rather have the lovers talk a bit more and consequently make better decisions. Ah, but that's not the way first love works, right?

The story, bookended by an old man on a train (Sergey Makovetskiy, above) who finally arrives at a cemetery (shown at bottom) near the now-deserted hotel and then... remembers his youth. We meet him again at the end of the film to wrap things up. In between, this lengthy 127-minute movie devotes itself to his story, which is simplicity incarnate: Boy meets girl, boy can't have her, much tsuris ensues -- "I can't." "You must!" "No!" "Yes!" and so on, until around the halfway mark, when it's a few years later, and our young man, returned to the hotel again, has grown a "somewhat" mustache and goatee (in order to age him a bit, no doubt).

The leads are played by attractive performers -- Dutch actress Sylvia Hoeks (below) and Russian actor Leonid Bichevin (above). Both are as good as they're allowed to be. The supporting cast is fine, too, with much of the acting falling pleasantly enough between realism and silent film style -- which, in a movie that offers as sparse dialog as this one does, seems perfectly understandable.

Both intimations and actualizations of death haunt the film. The palette here is drained of a certain amount of color, and there is one scene (below) of a card game by candlelight and in costumes that might just bring to mind Barry Lyndon.

The lovers' story is constantly up and down, off and on, with about enough actual content to fill perhaps one full hour. And that is the film's biggest problem, as it runs on for over two. If you taste is for beautiful photography coupled to Russian moodiness and depression, however, The Girl and Death could be your cup (well, in this case a samovar) of tea.

The movie opens tomorrow, Friday, April 25, in New York City at the Cinema Village. It will open in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Music Hall 3 on May 23, and  I expect it will appear on DVD and/or streaming/VOD eventually.